Moving Forward
by Clockwork Mockingbird
Summary: Neal hangs around town for his son, and to make sure his father won't die, and in the process gets to know his stepmother. And somewhere along the way, he gets to know his father again too. Sequel to The Roles We Play
1. Chapter 1

With Cora's heart beating firmly in her chest, and the fairies putting every ward known to man around Regina's house to keep mother and daughter out of the way for the time being, Neal focuses on getting his father upright.

The poison had nearly killed him, closer than anything ever had. Rumplestiltskin's face is still an ashen shade of gray, his eyes hooded and barely able to stay open. His hands shake on his cane until Neal takes it away from him mutters "lean on me" instead.

Belle, pale and shaky, supports him on the other side. Between the two of them, and Emma opening all the doors, all hovering hands and wide eyes, they herd a weak Dark One into his car.

The suggestion they get to the hospital is met with a resounding no (and a meaningful glance between the two women), so Emma drives them to a sturdy pink house across town. Rumplestiltskin sleeps in the back seat, still and quiet. Belle sniffles occasionally, but they are quiet and she sheds no tears, and Neal wonders if she's really okay.

Cora had sent him and Emma to the outskirts of town, but she'd wanted Belle to watch her husband's death. He's not sure what had happened in the five minutes he and Emma had been banished, but magic brought them back into the shop in time to see Cora yanking the black poison out of his father's chest.

Emma had snatched up the dagger the second she'd spotted it, and Regina made no move to grab it back, even as Rumplestiltskin's name slowly faded back into view.

Belle has the dagger now, the metal balancing across her lap. A glance into the back seat lets Neal see the faintest outline of the 'R' and 'u', the rest of the letters barely visible or unable to be seen.

His father is weak, the car is silent, and Neal wants to hit something.

_"I just made the wrong choice..."_

Rumplestiltkin trying to mend fences upon his death, no tricks or spells or potions, just goodbyes. Snow White had retrieved Cora's heart, Regina had put it where it belonged, and it was the past, the memory of shared love that saved him.

So the Dark One lives. Neal finds he wants to stick around to see if his Papa does too.

* * *

Getting Rumplestiltskin up the stairs is a challenge, but the downstairs bedroom is too close to everything and once he's well enough to stand, Belle wouldn't be able to keep him still long enough for him to rest. At least in their room, Rumplestiltskin would have to try and sneak down the stairs in order to do anything.

Something tells Neal Belle is well versed in his father's tricks.

So upstairs it is, and they stretch him out on the bed.

With his father sleeping, and Emma downstairs calling her parents, Neal is left alone with his stepmother.

"Do you, uh, need any help?" he asks.

Belle sets the dagger on the nightstand, sets about removing Rumplestiltskin's shoes. "Thank you," she says quietly, and Neal tucks the blankets around the still form on the bed.

Belle isn't what he expected when he heard his father was married. He isn't sure what he expected (maybe someone more like Cora, or the evilest of stepmothers, or even someone with green skin and a mad, cackling laugh), but brown curls, big blue eyes, and quiet strength is what he got.

She looks tired, and he's ready to suggest she get some rest when he notices her hand.

"You're bleeding." His hand moves of its own violation, grabbing hers to examine the wound. An injured wife of the Dark One is Not A Good Thing.

"Oh." Belle blinks down at the wound. "I guess I cut it on the glass."

Neal winces, remembering Cora yanking Belle through the air with extreme prejudice, sending her crashing into a glass case just to get her out of the way. Though she'd been after Rumplestiltskin, hurting Belle had been the icing on the cake. Whether she enjoyed it because she enjoyed hurting people or because Rumplestiltskin had been too weak to protect his wife, Neal didn't know.

Either way, Belle had been hurt, and that, at least, Neal could help fix.

"Come on," he said, pressing a handkerchief against the seeping wound. "Let's get this bandaged."

* * *

"Henry's chowing down at Granny's. Ruby wanted to come over and check on you, but I managed to keep her away. For now." Emma checks though the list of people. "Mary Margaret and David are heading home, they'll get Henry on their way, and the fairies have Regina and Cora on lockdown. We still don't know how they, or Hook, got here in the first place, or why the curse didn't affect them."

She watches Neal wrap a bandage around Belle's hand.

"And the only person other than them who could possibly answer that is..." she trails off. "We're not gonna bother him." She looks Neal. "You gonna be okay here?"

He doesn't want to be here, but he does. He feels he should be here. (He wants to make sure his father will be okay.) He doesn't owe his father anything. If anything, Rumplestiltskin owes him. He shouldn't care if the Dark One is weak and all but defenseless at the moment.

But.

"Yeah," he says. "I'll crash here for now. If that's okay?" he asks, abruptly remembering he has a stepmother who probably runs the house to her liking. She might not be up for a virtual stranger in her house after the day she's had.

Belle flexes her hand. "There are four rooms upstairs, and the one down here," she tells him. If she's surprised he wants to stay, it doesn't show on her face. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

Emma doesn't give him a chance to change his mind. "Cool. Now I have to go collect my very angry son and tell him his grandmother tried to kill his grandfather."

Belle gives her a tired smile. "I don't envy that conversation."

"Yeah," Emma sighs. "I also kinda told him his dad was dead, so he's not happy with me. Like, at all." She rubs her forehead and avoids looking at Neal. "You know how to reach me," she says, shutting the door behind her.

Neal feels he should say something, anything, to Belle. She looks tired, brittle and worn down, but she stands and shucks her coat before he can open his mouth.

"Do you need anything?" she asks.

She's very neutral, his stepmother. He finds that she knows the boundaries, knows what landmines to avoid when speaking, but can gently work her way to the root of a problem before you realize she's there. Over the next few hours, she sets him up in a spare room, fixes a quick dinner, and fusses over the dishes while he tries to keep up.

Neal wonders how his father got so lucky- the beauty from the fairytale with brains and bravery and strength.

In the end, he retreats to his room before she can work her Jedi mind tricks on him. He has a feeling if he talks to her, he'll wind up forgiving his father long before he's ready.

* * *

It's been two days since Neal collapsed face first on the bed in a strange house in a strange town. A town in which his son... and father... and stepmother all live.

Emma comes back into his life and his family doubles, with more than a few surprises. (The son is one thing, but a stepmom too? Top two things he never thought would happen, ever.)

He wants to get to know his son. Badly. He never knew, never even _thought_... God, he sent Emma to jail to scare her straight, and she had their son alone, and Neal never even knew.

Emma will probably never forgive him for that, but she doesn't need to. Neal will do right by his son now. He's not going to disappear on him, or make promises he doesn't intend to keep or, say, drop him down a magical portal and abandon him.

He should probably call Tamara. She's usually very understanding during difficult times, but a kid is an entirely different ball game.

Neal's not even sure how to begin explaining- 'sorry I ran to a different state but my father was dying and he's still not okay but my stepmom is pretty cool as far as stepmoms go, oh by the way I found out my ex, the one I put in jail, I told you about her, right? Yeah, she lives in the same town my dad does and it turns out I'm a father. Anyway, be home soon...'

He needs a stiff drink.

But first, a phone charger.

"There's a phone in the kitchen if you'd like to use that one," Belle tells him when he asks. She has an old fashioned phone, and the charger isn't compatible with his smart phone, and Rumplestiltskin's is even older. "It should work now that the curse is broken, but if not you can use mine. Are you hungry? I'm about to start dinner."

Belle is really throwing the evil stepmother stereotype for a loop.

"Any change with Papa?" he asks. Belle tends to babble when she's nervous, or cook, and the house is full of cookies and some pretty pastries he's not sure he's allowed to eat.

The brittle smile she'd given him dims a bit. "No. He's... healing. He'll sleep until he's better."

The curse will keep him alive and they both know it, but worry curls in the air around them anyway, even as each letter of his name reappears on the dagger.

"I'm just... I'll call Tamara and... well I don't know what I'm gonna tell her."

"The truth," Belle suggests. "It'll come out eventually. It might as well be from you." She hands him the handset. Turns to the stove. "I'll start dinner."

* * *

Tamara doesn't answer- she never answers if she doesn't know the number, so Neal records and erases several voicemails before blurting out as much as he can and hanging up before he can change his mind.

"Hey, it's me. Uh, I'm okay, and I think my father's okay for now, but he's still not... Well, I'm helping his wife out, staying with her until we're sure he'll be fine. And there's... a lot that I found out. Emma's here. The Emma. And we have a son. His name's Henry, and he's eleven, and I never knew. So, uh, please call me, at this number. My phone's dead as usual. I'll see you soon. Also I need to tell you where I left your car."

He stares at the phone for a full minute, resisting the urge to try her again. She'll call soon, once she figures out how she's going to react. He'll explain in more detail when she does, and they can work out a plan. He won't be leaving his son without a father, even if Tamara freaks.

But she won't. That's why he's going to marry her. She's good in a crisis. And if this isn't a crisis, he doesn't know what is.

* * *

On the third day, curiosity gets the better of him, and they've run out of other things to talk about, so he sits in the living room with Belle and finally asks the one question he's been dying to ask her.

"So what's your story?"

She blinks tiredly at him over her tea. "My story?"

"You're not in Henry's book."

He'd poured over the book when he got his hands on it, mostly to see if he was in it, and partly because he wanted to know if he could see what dark deals Rumplestiltskin had made. But there were only mentions here and there of the Dark One in the tales. Brief glimpses, maybe a paragraph or two, and then it went back to Cinderella, or Snow White, or whoever the story was about.

He met the werewolf yesterday. She's pretty cool. And Belle's best friend.

Best friends with a werewolf, Grumpy the Dwarf, and married to the Dark One.

Clearly, she has a story.

"You mean, how did I end up with Rumple."

Caught, Neal grins sheepishly. "Can you blame me for wanting to know?"

She can't, and Rumplestiltskin can't exactly tell the tale himself, so she tells him, and she's honest with the details. He's expecting an edited version and instead she holds nothing back. It's raw and there's anger and hurt and pain and fear and the strong undercurrent of absolute love and faith underneath it all.

She starts with the fear of the deal, the second great ogre war, and Robin Hood, the library and then the months of teasing, the fall and the drapes, the kiss. Regina, the curse, the basement. She tells him the good and the bad, about the baby and the loss, how they began searching for him as best they could when they woke. Their fights, their hardships.

Neal finds himself covering her hand with his. He swallows hard and blinks back the tears, mourning the sibling he'd never get to know, and waits for her tears to dry. He offers her a timid smile, this amazing woman who is now part of his life.

Perfect relationships don't exist, but Belle is honest, brave, and strong, and he doesn't know Rumplestiltskin anymore. They work, Beauty and The Beast. He just can't wrap his head around it.

"How'd you do it?" he asks, because he has to know. "How did you change him?"

Belle shakes her head, finishing off her tea. Neal suddenly wonders if he's about to be scolded in a Mom-like fashion. "I didn't change him," she says. "I just loved him. I accepted, and prodded a little, and he began changing on his own." She gathers the dishes. "Never go into a relationship trying to change someone, because they won't change. Don't hope they won't change, because they will. Just love them, support them through all the bad times, and let them grow."

"I gave up on him," Neal says suddenly. "I tried, but-"

"You were young," she says. She places a gentle hand on his shoulder, warmth and kindness in the gesture. "A child should never have to see that happen to their parent, no matter their age."

There is too much sadness in that statement to ignore (and he's shocked she doesn't blame him, or deny that he did give up, merely accepts and offers more tea), but it is a story for another day, he decides, and heads for the ringing phone.

* * *

Tamara is quiet as he explains why he took off so quickly. Neal feels seeded doubts begin to sprout, even as she speaks.

"Well," she says, "you sound like you're exactly where you need to be. I'll get my car, and put in for some time off work, and we'll go from there."

"I could come get you," he offers, though he doesn't know how. He could take the pirate ship back to New York. She might believe everything else if he shows up on the Jolly Roger. "I'm actually just in-"

"No," she says quickly, and he winces at the sharpness in her tone. She needs time to figure this out on her own, and prepare for a big change in their lives. "No, I'll ask my boss for the time off and call you back. We'll figure this out together."

Time off work to come meet her fiance's baby mama and the not-so-much-a-baby. And also his magical father.

Where the hell was the liquor cabinet in this place?

* * *

Rumplestiltskin is awake. Belle is asleep, curled against his side, and Neal doesn't know what to say.

He's been awake longer and longer the past few days, and Belle is always the buffer between them, giving one status updates about the other. Neal is usually with Henry, or picking up easy to make meals so Belle can try and sleep (he knows she hasn't been sleeping well, no matter what she says), and usually misses the fleeting moments of consciousness his father manages.

"Bae," he murmurs, his voice stiff and hoarse. "Are you alright?"

Neal forces himself to step into the room, hands shoved into his pockets. He doesn't have to be here, or need to be. He can leave at any time, and god knows he should call Tamara and tell her where he is instead of leaving rambling messages for her to translate, but she can't even take the time off until the day after tomorrow anyways so he'll call her then and give her directions, and he's rambling in his own mind now and needs to shut up.

"No one was hurt," he tells his father. "Belle's fine, Henry's fine, Regina and Cora are locked up for now thanks to the... the fairies. Nuns? Whatever they are- god that's weird. _This_ is weird, all of it."

"Yes." Rumplestiltskin's eyes close, but his mouth curves a bit. "I hear you're getting married," he says. "Does she know?"

"I never thought I'd have to tell her," Neal says honestly. "But now with Henry. I don't know. How do you even begin to tell someone that?"

"Start with the truth." Familiar words.

"You've changed," Neal blurts before his mind can activate the 'shut up' filter.

Rumplestiltskin forces his eyes open to look at him. His face has lost the gray sheen, but it is still pale as bone, eyes bloodshot and sunken. Belle stiffens in her sleep, a small noise escaping her before she stills, her head pillowed on Rumplestiltskin's arm.

"Yes," he says quietly. "I have. I still am." He swallows visibly. "I'm trying, son. I'm trying for her, for you, and now Henry. But if you can't... I don't deserve forgiveness. You and I both know it."

It's a speech, an 'I'm sorry' spiel from his absent father, the soliloquy he didn't stick around to hear in New York, instead diving out the window after his son while Emma and Rumplestiltskin stood alone in the apartment. Neal waits for the 'but if you can find it in your heart to give me another chance, then...' portion of the segment.

"Be a better father than I ever was," Rumplestiltskin says, and Neal feels his jaw go slack. "You have an astounding example of what not to do. You'll do fine." And he smiles, sadly, as his eyes begin to close. "You will be wonderful, and you will make mistakes. Just don't follow our legacy of absent, horrible fathers."

Rumplestiltskin's fingers curl slightly against the sheets, then go limp.

"I'm sorry, son," he breathes. "I'm so... sorry..."

Neal watches his father sleep, and searches for the anger he's carried with him, honed and sharped for hundreds of years. It's still there, but it is quieter. Not quite the raging inferno, but more than smoldering embers.

And brimming over it all is an acute sense of loss.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Next chapter might take a while- I'm a very busy Mockingbird with job orientation and a new job and a mini-vacation and... Yeah the next chapter is gonna take a while D:

* * *

Neal is about one hundred and fifty percent sure he's not supposed to like his stepmom. It's practically fairytale law. Every goddamn story has an evil stepmother of some kind (Cinderella and Snow White to name a few). So it was natural to assume that, upon first hearing he had a stepmother of his own, Belle would be just another evil character in his story.

And, God, has he had some evil characters in his pages.

He won't get into that right now, but there have been many, and there will probably be more later on, and he's accepted that because he's a freaking fairytale character and not just another average Joe.

Dammit all.

But back to Belle. Belle who is not some wicked stepmother, or evil person (he's pretty confident in saying she literally doesn't have a mean bone in her body), and he actually thinks she's pretty cool.

But it feels weird admitting it.

"Belle's probably the most liked person in town," Henry says, shoveling ice cream in his mouth. "She's really nice, probably the nicest person ever, and pretty, and makes the best cookies, and only the really grumpy people don't like her." He grins, ice cream dripping past his chin. "Even Grumpy likes her. And his name is _Grumpy_."

Neal watches his son devour a full banana split by himself. This is after the small being before him already inhaled two burgers, a side of fries, and the candy bar he'd eaten earlier. Is it possible for someone to eat so much? It shouldn't be. Where did it all go?

"I think she forgave my mom," Henry says, "for locking her up for all those years."

"Yeah?"

Forgiving something like that, forgiving the person who stole years of your life... it takes a kind of strength Neal didn't even know existed. Then again, Neal didn't know people like Belle existed. She likes to confuse him, that Belle (she married his father, and that was confusing enough).

"How are you doing with the," Neal's hands flutter in the air, "mom situation?"

"I know my mom made the wrong choice," Henry says slowly. "She just doesn't know how to be good, and her mom knows that." He glances around the nearly empty diner. "What's going to happen to them?" he asks.

Neal blows out a breath. "Well," he says, leaning his elbows on the table, "I'm not too sure, but I know them being around magic, even with Cora having her heart back, isn't a good idea."

"So they'll be sent over the town line."

He says it like he already knows it's true, and Neal can only shrug, because he isn't sure.

"It's up to Snow and Charming. And Emma, I think, since she's Sheriff." He pauses. "And a princess. That's just... no. I refuse."

Henry stares into his ice cream. "Should I forgive her?" he asks suddenly. "Mom? She lied to me about you."

Neal is not qualified to answer these kinds of questions. Where were the wise fairy godmothers when you needed them? He scratches the back of his head and tries to think of a good answer.

"Yeah, I mean, I think you should. It's up to you, but you gotta ask yourself why she did it." Neal doesn't know how much Emma told Henry, and Henry needs to be well informed before he goes around carrying grudges. "Look at it from her perspective: I put her in jail for a crime I committed, and then disappeared forever. For all she knew I was dead. Would you wanna tell your kid that?"

Henry frowns and stirs the remaining ice cream. "I wouldn't want to lie," he says.

"Sometimes the truth hurts."

Henry sighs heavily. "Have you forgiven Grandpa Rumple?"

Great, the kid got Emma's bluntness. Couldn't he have gotten her blonde hair instead?

Wait a minute.

"Grandpa Rumple?" Neal asks. He has to swallow the laugh. His father, the Dark One, feared in all the realms, being called Grandpa. Then he swallows the small bit of pride over it being true, because it's his son sitting before him.

Henry nods. "He said I could call him whatever I want, and I already have one Grandpa, so it could get confusing." He pauses, glances at his dad. "What should I call Belle?"

Neal throws up a hand. "You'd have to ask her."

Henry stares steadily at him (and he knows that look, dammit, the kid got Rumplestiltskin's penetrating gaze), and Neal scrubs a hand over his face, wishing his dead phone was charged and would ring.

Which reminds him, he still needs to call Tamara and give her directions. Storybrooke doesn't show up on maps or GPS.

"No," he says, because so far it's still true.

"Will you ever forgive him?"

Geez, he's like a dog with a bone. What's with asking all the questions he doesn't want to answer?

Then again, this is _his_ son.

"I think he made a mistake," Henry continues. "And everyone makes mistakes. He saved me once and got hit by a car. Did he tell you that?"

Shocked, Neal nearly drops his coffee. "No." But he is very interested in this story. "Why don't you tell me?"

* * *

Tamara calls him from the road almost as soon as he gets back. "Storybrooke isn't showing up on my GPS," she tells him.

Right. Directions. Neal figured it wouldn't. He tries to remember when he told Tamara the name of the town, but everything's so jumbled in his head right now he's lucky he got back to the house in one piece.

His father had saved his son's life once, for no reason other than he hadn't wanted him to get hit by a car.

Rumplestiltskin had never lost that quality of himself, the love of children. Family (though they hadn't know of the relation at the time) is very important to him. It always has been, and always would be.

He let his own son go because he was afraid, a coward, wanted power more than anything... but pushes little boys out of the way of speeding cars where there is no magic to patch him up, no way to know he'd survive.

Rumplestiltskin fell in love twice in his son's absence, and got very lucky the second time, and he does not deny it (as long as they talk about Belle or Henry, Neal and Rumplestiltskin can manage an almost-conversation, which Belle calls 'dancing around the issue').

Neal pinches the bridge of his nose. He'll have to figure this all out later. Right now he has to figure out how to get his fiance into a non-existent town.

* * *

"I'm going to see my father today," Belle announces over breakfast as she scrambles eggs in a pan.

Rumplestiltskin, dressed in a robe and flannel pajamas, leaning heavily on his cane to hobble around the kitchen, but upright and finally not pale, freezes in the act of pouring coffee.

Neal glances between the two of them and wonders if he should leave the room or make his father sit down and then make a break for it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rumplestiltskin finally asks. His voice is steady, if rough, and his eyes never waver from Belle's.

"No," she says, "but I have to try. He's my father, and we're not cursed anymore." She squares her shoulders. "He might be different now."

Neal hears the wobble in her voice. He tries to make himself as small as possible in his chair. This should be a private discussion (even though he knows all about Belle's father because she told him herself) and he's really uncomfortable right now.

Though not as uncomfortable as his father, judging by the pained look on his face.

"He might not, Sweetheart," Rumplestiltskin murmurs quietly. Neal can see the tension in his shoulders. "Will you at least take Ruby with you?"

Belle smiles, and the heavy air lifts ever so slightly. "I don't think I could keep her away if I tried. _Someone_ told her I needed a bodyguard."

"I said no such thing. I merely suggested she stay close whenever you're in town." A heavy sigh is blown between his father's lips. "Be careful," he begs, pressing a kiss to her hair as he passes. "You attract more trouble than a bear in a beehive."

Perfectly innocent, Belle points to herself in shock. "Me? In trouble?" She leans over the counter and kisses him quickly (Neal is too amused at them to be even slightly weirded out). "Perish the thought."

* * *

The conversation with Tamara... did not go well. She thinks Neal is here for Emma (and he does not want to examine the accusation because a large part of him never stopped loving her), but he is truthful in saying he is here for his son.

As for reconnecting with his father, as much as he wants to fight it, it's hard to stay angry at a man who looks at his wife with such much love and awe. Even harder when the man chuckles as Henry bounces around his shop and offers to show him how a crystal ball works (but the anger is still there, and might always be if he isn't careful).

Tamara cautiously agrees to give Neal the benefit of the doubt, and Rumplestiltskin, tired of the argument and being the subtle man that he is, changes the color of her outfit with a wave of his hand.

"Papa," Neal sighs. "You just had to go for the flare."

Tamara gives Neal a wide-eyed look, and glances down at her top that used to be blue.

Rumplestiltskin exchanges a conspiratorial wink with Henry. "But of course," he says with a bow. Henry grins.

Tamara finds her voice. "So," she says loudly and, wincing, lowers her volume. "So, Neal said you're married? I'd love to meet your wife."

Neal grins. Tamara rolls with the flow. Future stepson? Sure. Future father-in-law does magic? Well okay then. Where's the wife? She adjusts, and just goes with whatever comes her way. She's stubborn to be sure, but he likes that about her.

She tugs at her top, eyeing it warily, and Rumplestiltskin changes it back to the correct color.

"She's with her dad," Neal tells her. "Family reunion."

Rumplestiltkin, sinking onto a stool (Neal notices he looks worn out and wonders if he can get him to go home or if he'll have to get Belle and make her bully him into listening), rolls his eyes. He stills suddenly, and turns to Neal. "She should be back by now."

Henry bites his lip. "Maybe they're just catching up?" he asks hopefully, and he sounds very unsure.

Rumplestiltskin doesn't look so sure.

Neal _isn't_ so sure, especially not with what Belle told him, and turns to Tamara. "Why don't you head to Granny's," he says, pressing his newly acquired room key into her hands, "and I'll meet up with you in a bit. Gotta get the kid home before his mom arrests me."

And if he takes the long way to the apartment, a route which will take him right past a certain flower shop, well, that's his business.

* * *

It's one terrifying half hour later, a threat from a frightened Rumplestiltskin, Neal grabbing Moe French by the shirt collar and hauling him up, and some fast driving by Emma that gets them to the mines in time.

Ruby was tied up in the shop, silver adorning her wrists and ankles, the burns from the metal etched deep into her skin, and she sits in the back of the van with Moe and simply stares at him the entire way. Her eyes are eerily calm, her face blank, and if Neal wasn't so worried he would find someone Moe's size inching away from Ruby really funny.

But Belle is close to not being Belle anymore, and Neal can only find grim determination and fierce worry instead.

He catches his father's shoulder as the van screams around a corner. "We'll get there in time," he says. Partly to reassure them all, partly to keep his father's mind off violence.

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin says firmly, grip tight on his cane. He turns to his son. "We will."

And they do. They find Belle sobbing in the mine cart, but still Belle. Neal scrambles forward to lift her out and she nearly goes to her knees when he sets her down.

"Are you okay?"

Emma is standing right there and she's not sure who asked first, Gold or Neal, and so she stands off to the side, arm on Ruby's to keep her from flying at Moe. Ruby could easily shake her grip off, but if anyone asks, she can at least say she _tried_ to stop the angry werewolf from biting Moe...

Belle falls into Rumplestiltskin's arms, clutching the fabric of his shirt in her fists to steady herself.

Neal's heart slows for the first time.

"Belle," Rumplestiltskin chokes. "Oh, Sweetheart."

"Belle-"

Neal whips around to face Moe, glad he is firmly between him and Belle. He paints his angriest glare on his face (he got it from his Papa), and Moe stops in his tracks.

"Get out."

"Belle, I just- I wanted to save you," Moe tries.

Belle's face is flushed with anger, eyes two hard diamonds sparkling when she turns to him. "Save me? _Save_ me? You wanted to _erase_ me, to remove my memories of my life, even my life with you and Mama, Father, because you can't accept that I fell in love with someone." She shakes her head, spine ramrod straight.

"He's a monster!"

"The only monster I see here is you," Belle snarls, voice dripping venom and, much worse, disappointment. Her face crumbles for the smallest moment, the crack in her armor, the mask falling away. "I don't ever want to see you again."

The words fall like bricks between them. Moe falls back a single step, the realization of what he'd done smacking him in the face.

Belle takes a single breath.

"Get out," she orders.

It's all Ruby needs to drag him out of the mine. Emma follows, but at a distance, and gives Ruby a few minutes of a really hard grip before they let him go and inform him he'll be walking back to town.

Belle hits the ground hard, and Rumplestiltskin's arms are still around her, but she sobs, her heart breaking. Neal kneels. His hand reaches out, but he hesitates, hand faltering in the air, unsure.

He meets his father's eyes.

Neal touches her shoulder, wishing he could comfort her in some way.

Belle's fingers wrap around his, her face buried in Rumplestiltskin's chest as they both hold her.

Neal keeps both hands on her shoulders, one under her fingers, the other over his father's. There are no words for the pain they both know so well, and so they are quiet, and watch each other's eyes.

Neal gives Rumplestiltskin's fingers a squeeze.

It's not acceptance of the apology, but it's a start.

It's not an acknowledgment of the issues still between them, or what they both want to say.

But it is a start.


	3. Chapter 3

He has a lot of women in his life at the moment, and all of them seem to have an idea of what he should do about his father. On one hand, Rumplestiltskin is obviously better, walking around and getting back to his shop, so Neal shouldn't feel guilty about staying at the inn with Tamara.

Nope, not at all. Not one bit.

God _dammit_.

Tamara reminds him that his father has a wonderful wife who worries enough for the both of them. Also Henry has taken an interest in "Grandpa Gold" so Emma drops by every now and then.

So Tamara is all for the hands off, let him come to you approach.

A small voice in Neal's head points out that Rumplestiltkin already had come to him in New York, and Neal had gone out of a window, then met his son, and then there was the whole got-stabbed-by-a-pirate thing. So the voice says it's Neal's move. Neal tells the voice to shut up.

Belle, surprisingly, has thrown in the towel, at least for the moment. She's nagged her husband and prodded her stepson and now she's worn out. (Actually, she's just worn out, period, and Neal and Rumplestiltskin are civil in her presence, for fear of shattering the small amount of strength she managed to find after the mines.)

But it's Emma's exasperated "Just suck it up and go ask him to grab a beer with you" that gets him out the door. That, and the hard shove that accompanied the words.

Emma had never been subtle.

So that's how Neal finds himself barging into his father's shop, ready to blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind so he doesn't have the chance to change his mind.

He freezes in the doorway.

Belle is standing in flats, stretched on her tiptoes, head tilted back. Her arms are resting on Rumplestiltskin's shoulders, fingers twined in his hair, eyes are closed as she kisses him.

Neal tries to swallow the words he wanted to blurt out a few seconds ago and winds up choking on his spit instead. Smooth.

Rumplestiltskin doesn't look the least bit embarrassed. Just happy, and the smallest bit awed.

"Bae," he says in happy surprise.

"Uh," Neal manages. Belle hides her face in Rumplestiltskin's shoulder. Oh God there should be a handbook to consult for these moments. He's never been in this situation. Why had he come in here? He should leave. No, wait. "Drinks!"

Rumplestiltskin blinks. "Drinks?"

"Yeah. Yes. You and me. And a bar." He stops, thinks. "There is a bar around here, right?"

"The Rabbit Hole," Belle answers. They both look at her. She gives her husband A Look. "Ruby."

"Ah."

She smiles at Neal, then discreetly tries to slip into the back room. Neal likes Belle, he really does. She understands when to push, when to back away, and Henry was right, she's the nicest person ever. Part of him wants to ask her along, but between Henry and Tamara, Neal hasn't had a lot of time for much else.

Though Tamara's learned a lot in just two days, and wanted to explore on her own today, get her bearings.

And he and his father Have To Talk.

"The Rabbit Hole, then, around eight?"

Rumplestiltskin smiles. It's a small, timid smile, and hope explodes in his eyes, but he nods calmly. "Eight," he says, and Neal pretends not to hear the catch in his voice.

And steadily ignores the catch in his own when he tells his father he'll see him then.

* * *

They talk.

Rumplestiltskin has millions of apologies, and Neal listens to nearly all of them, because none of them are followed by 'but' or excuses. He says sorry, and he hopes one day they'll be able to be a family again, if only for Henry's sake.

"We'll start with drinks and go from there." Neal takes a long pull of his pint. "So, a pawnbroker."

Rumplestiltskin knows a change of topic when he hears one, but rolls with it.

"And a lawyer, and a landlord, though that's pretty much done away with for now."

Many of the people had wondered about Mr. Gold and the rent, but with the memories restored and so many people moving in with someone else, or away from another, it's hard to keep up. Besides, Rumplestiltskin says, it's not as if he needs the money.

"Though Belle needs several new books."

"You're also a husband."

"And you're a father."

"You're a grandfather."

They both look at each other for a minute, then finish off their drinks and signal for more.

"Your fiance seems..."

Neal waits, sipping at his beer. "Seems?" he prompts.

"Hard to get a read on her. I've only met her the once. She's taking it all well?"

"Yeah, well, I mean, well enough. She had to make a list of who was who."

The subtle probing is to be expected, and Neal misses the sharp look in the low light.

"I thought she was going to storm out when I started talking about magic," Neal admits. "She's not one for making a scene, but asking someone to believe that is a lot to suddenly expect of someone. But she drove all the way here just for me, and she always asks how you're doing. She wants to meet Belle, and she's okay with Emma."

He sees the wince, understood by males everywhere, and touches his glass to Rumplestiltskin's.

"The misses and the ex becoming friends. Every man's nightmare," he toasts. "Speaking of exes, what are they gonna do with Cora?"

The background chatter is loud enough that he nearly misses the quiet response. He leans in closer, and he suddenly sees how _tired_ Rumplestiltskin looks. Weary in the eyes, grim around the mouth, and almost his age.

He's never seen his father look so... worn before.

"I've sealed her magic," he says briskly. "She'll never be able to undo it. Only I can do that, and I never shall. Once she crosses the town line tomorrow, the seal will remove all her memories of Storybrooke, and the people in it. She'll have a new life far away, and will think that's how it's always been."

It's a just punishment, but Neal would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. He expected Cora to be dead, or locked away in chains. Part of him wanted her to be.

But she loved his father once. And she had torn the poison out of him, saving his life and walking away. Her heart was back where it belonged. Maybe it would make a difference.

"Regina is going with her," Rumplestiltskin says now.

Neal scrubs a hand over his face. "Yeah, Henry mentioned that. They're saying goodbye."

"She'll be back eventually. She's going to help her mother settle in, and then she's off to 'discover herself', she says. She's willingly given up magic."

Neal gives him a flat look. "Yeah," he scoffs. "Until she thinks we're taking Henry from her and she decides to sneak in and level the town."

His father snorts. "No, no, she's already got the necklace on. Same symbol as her mother's, and neither of them can be removed by anyone other than me."

Neal had seen the seal, some kind of ancient symbol that just looked like a bunch of scribbles to him. Cora's was on her skin, a symbol of safety for Storybrooke, a tattoo for the rest of the world. And once she crossed the town line, her memories would be gone forever. Not even the Blue Fairy would be bringing those back.

Maybe that would help Regina, her mother being gone.

"Snow does hope so." Rumplestiltkin signals for another round.

"What horrible thing did you do to Regina after finding out she had Belle?" Neal wants to know, because he knows his father, and he had to have done something.

Rumplestiltskin's answer surprises him. "I lived, happy and in love with my life. She's a very lonely soul, and it's punishment enough for her to see me content." He stares into his beer, then sheepishly admits, "I did consider sending a wraith after her when she brought magic here."

That answer doesn't surprise him. "But you didn't."

"No, I didn't."

"So you're a landlord who doesn't collect rent anymore, a lawyer who never has any cases, and a pawnbroker who pretends not to know his wife gives people back their things." They both grin. "What have you been doing since the curse broke?"

"Finding a way to cross the town line," he says simply, as if it were obvious. "I lived in my basement for nearly a week trying to find you." He pauses, considering. "A few things went on in town I wasn't a part of. A crowd went after Ruby for being a werewolf, but after we locked up King George it calmed down significantly. I don't really know much else- I had more important things to do."

Neal feels the words hit him almost like a physical blow, the chatter of the bar fading far into the background. His father really looked for him. Searched hard, made all kinds of deals for hundreds of years just to say he was sorry. And he found him. Neal's right here, at the bar, having a drink with his father.

His father who is so different than he remembers.

"You came back for me," Neal says softly.

"I would say I always will, but that would imply I'll be leaving you again." He meets Neal's eyes. "And I will never be making that mistake ever again."

It's the truth, so Neal believes him.

Rumplestiltskin waves his hand and changes the subject. "So, how did you and Tamara meet?"

Neal chuckles, remembering. And tells him.

* * *

Tamara isn't in the room when he stumbles in (the floor keeps moving on him, just to mess with him, honest), and Neal has a minute to wonder where she is before he flops onto the bed, and is out.

* * *

"Here, drink this."

Neal groans and buries his head under the pillow. The sunlight streams merrily through the crack the curtain doesn't cover, just low enough for him to know it's way too early to be awake.

Tamara pats his shoulder.

"It's water and aspirin," she says, swatting him once when he doesn't move.

"There is a God." Neal takes both the offerings under the covers with him. He remembers his father dropping him off at the front desk- and he'd been stone cold sober, the bastard- and flopping into bed, but not much before that. "Where were you last night? You weren't- _oh god why_." He clutches the pillow more firmly over his head when Tamara opens the curtains all the way.

"I was here," she says. "You almost ran into me when you staggered in, after midnight, trying to keep your balance."

Neal doesn't remember, but now he knows trying to keep up with the Dark One while drinking isn't a good idea. Lesson learned. He stays in bed and waits for the aspirin to kick in.

It's only as Tamara leaves for her morning run that he remembers he was home at ten-thirty.

* * *

He spots Emma heading into the Sheriff's Office, and darts in after her.

"You still have that human lie detector deal going for you, right?"

Emma peers at him with narrowed eyes over her scarf. "Hello to you too." She unwinds the scarf from her neck, throwing it at him when she gets it off. He hits her with the ends of it, but hangs it up.

"Yeah," she says. "Why?"

He shouldn't be doing this, but there are things to consider. The safety of the town, of the people in it. Henry. Emma. Belle. His father. Magic in Storybrooke, and though Cora and Regina left this morning, the town isn't safe until Rumplestiltskin can get the barrier lifted and magic gone for good.

And the more he thinks about it, the more things just don't add up.

He'd never told Tamara the town's name was Storybrooke, but she'd called from the road, already on her way.

And she hadn't been in the room last night, he was positive. If she had, she would have known he'd been back and asleep at ten-thirty.

"Come grab lunch with Tamara and me."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin listens to them both carefully. He doesn't interrupt once, simply lets them talk, both hands folded over his cane. He's tired, it's been a long day, and he'd been just about to eat dinner with Belle when they'd knocked.

But he stands now, face grim.

"I thought as much."

Even Belle throws a confused glance his way.

"August Booth. Or Pinocchio, whatever he's called. He came to me for help with his... condition."

Neal raises a brow, wondering what August has got to do with his fiance telling lies. "And you said no."

"Oh no, he's quite human now. Simple spell to reverse the Blue Fairy's, and humanize him, for a small price."

"A price, of course." His stomach bottoms out, and Neal feels his fists clench when his nails bite into his palms. "What price was that?" he grits out. It's always deals and prices and always about what the Dark One can gain-

"He had to talk to his father, tell him who he was."

Belle, perched on the arm of the chair Rumplestiltskin vacated, rests her chin on his forearm and beams at him. "That was good of you."

"Yes, well, Marco came to me some time ago asking about his son. I owed him for that clock you love so much."

Belle's smile grows, and Rumplestiltskin drops his gaze, smiling himself.

He reunited father and son, and asked for nothing in return. Neal feels like the wind was just knocked out of him.

"What does August have to do with anything?" Emma wants to know, folding her arms.

"It seems though he's met Tamara before." A weight settles across Rumplestiltskin's shoulders as he crosses the room. He stands before his son, eyes sad. "I'm sorry, son. Your fiance isn't who she seems to be."

* * *

"Neal, Neal, no please! Listen to me! You know me, you know everything about me! I love you-"

Emma has Tamara handcuffed and locked in a cell. She looks very pleased with herself. Rumplestiltskin waves a hand over the bars, brow furrowed in concentration. Neal focuses on the purple sheen of magic engulfing the prison.

Belle's head on his shoulder, her comforting arm around his back. She's leaning on him, calm as you please, holding his elbow, rubbing soothing circles on his jacket... it's the only thing keeping him together right now.

His father is explaining about the truth serum, how it should be working in less than a minute, and Neal wants to feel sorry for Tamara, looking alone and afraid, locked up and chained up.

But he just feels angry.

At her, at himself, at these people who came into this world, _his_ world, and that was the only reason Tamara had pretended to love him. And she had been pretending. Why else would she take an interest in him? Why else would she be so interested in his past, so intent on meeting his father?

He wants to be mad at Rumplestiltskin, because that anger is easy. It's familiar. Crushing disappointment would be a welcome relief instead of the burning anger that flares through him now.

"Bae."

Neal looks up, locks gazes with his father.

"What do you want to know?" he asks. "She'll tell you anything."

Everything. He wants to know everything. At the same time, none of it matters, and he wishes he didn't care. But _damn_ if it doesn't sting.

"Did you ever love me?"

The silence in the room is heavy. No one so much as breathes as they wait for an answer. Belle's hand clenches at his elbow.

And Tamara, steady as ever, steady as she's always been for missed deadlines and fights and every crisis he's ever had, steady and calm, answers: "No."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin is the one to find him by the docks, head in his hands, parked on a bench.

"I don't want to talk, least of all to you." Neal wants to laugh, because it's funny, but it's not. He wants to cry, because it hurts. "It's all you- it's always you. Everything is about you!" he yells, surging to his feet. "All my life I was the coward's son, and then everyone was afraid because of you. And now the woman I was going to spend my life with?" He does laugh, but it's humorless and the smile hurts. "She just wanted to find magic- find you."

Rumplestiltskin says nothing.

He's listening.

"I can't be Neal, or Baelfire, or anybody, because of _you_!" He's shouting now, the birds around them flying off in terror. "What am I supposed to do now, huh? Just go back to being fourteen? Or disappear, start all over _again_ to try and get away from you? I can't, Papa, I can't get away from you- everyone who meets me, who knows me, they know my father first, and that's who I am to them! Not Baelfire, not Neal, just your son, _and that's all I am to them_."

Rumplestiltskin takes a single step forward.

He's still listening.

Neal just _breaks_.

Hundreds and hundreds of years, enough that he's nearly lost count, but his father's arms around him are still exactly the same.

"What do I do now, Papa?"

"I don't know, son. Only you know what's best for yourself. But for now, you come back to the house, let Belle smother you and feed you too much for a few days. It's hard to feel sorry for yourself when she has a plate of cookies under your nose."

Neal chokes out a laugh, through his tears but keeps his head on his papa's shoulder, his fists clenched in his jacket.

"The barrier will stay for now, and no one not from our world will be able to get in. She had a partner, and he's supposed to bring Hook back, but we'll stop them. We'll fix it," his papa says, and he's not talking about magic or curses now. "Somehow, we'll fix everything."

Fixing everything is impossible. Even if it all could be fixed, something else, somewhere down the line, would break. Something always breaks, something always shatters, and there's not always someone there to pick up the pieces.

But now there is. Or would be, if Neal would let him.

He thinks he's ready to.

"We'd better head back before Belle drags us back," Neal says after a while, lifting his head.

"Too late."

Neal turns, and is promptly tackled around the middle by Henry. He only doesn't land in the mud thanks to Emma grabbing his arm and yanking him forward, and Belle getting her fingers through Henry's belt loops.

"Hi," he says, ruffling his son's hair.

"Mom says we're all going to get dinner," Henry announces. "And that I'm supposed to keep talking. She doesn't usually say that."

Neal begins to smile. "No?"

Henry shakes his head. "Nope. Usually she says the opposite."

Emma is off to the side with Rumplestiltskin, talking in hushed tones. She taps her temple, and he nods. Tamara won't be keeping her memories either, and nothing outside of Storybrooke will be able to fix that. Neal wants that to hurt, but the ache is dull and his son is hanging off his side, and they're all going to dinner. The ache turns into a dull pang, and he takes Belle's arm in his.

"What's for dinner?" he asks.

Emma looks at her watch. "Granny's, probably. Not much else is open."

"Are you coming Grandpa Gold?"

Rumplestiltskin's gaze slides to his son. "Ah, I-"

"Yeah, he's coming." Neal doesn't have another hand to grab with, so his tone is firm and final.

Emma nudges Belle with her elbow. "Let's go then."

"I'm coming too?" For some reason Belle is surprised by this.

"You're sure as hell not leaving me alone with three generations of Rumplestiltskin," Emma informs her.

All three generations take offense to that. "Hey!" they exclaim in unison, wearing identical expressions of affront.

Belle and Emma exchange a single glance and make it three seconds before they burst out laughing.

They will stumble, falter, and fall. There will be hurts and anger and probably a lot of shouting, several eye rolls, and sarcasm as they stagger towards being a family, but they will do it together.

They'll start with dinner, for now, but the momentum is already sending them careening in the correct direction: forward.


End file.
